Growing up in Southern California prevailed its beauty yet, growing up in a military family is something I'll forever gratify. For 20+ years my father was a marine and out of those years, I experienced 13 of them. Let me tell you those were the best years of my life. However, I will only tell you the story that has made me who I am. In December 2002, my dad’s boss called telling him, he was to be deployed in January 2003. Being 5 years of age I didn't quite understand what he would endure, all I knew is my daddy was leaving us for 7 months. The morning of my dad's departure came quickly. I'll never forget the goodbye that changed my outlook on family and love. At 5 am my father walked into my room. Scared and nervous, he was crying… I had never
seen my dad cry. After entering my room he hugged me while saying, "I will love and miss you so much". At this point, I was thinking, " OKAY JUST WANT TO SLEEP IT'S 5 AM". Still, as my dad left, he ran back and said, "I love you Honey bear" one last time. All at once he was gone for… 7 months. As he continued to leave I wondered if I might ever get to say the three most important words again. However, I realized it was too late to tell him, for he had already left. As the 7 months went by I helped my mom take care of my newborn brother and I took care of myself too. My dad returned and I'll forever be thankful. He will get to observe my walk across that stage that starts my life. However, something was lost in us. My dad and I both suffer from types of depression. Being diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder really changed him, fighting a harder war within himself, then fighting for our country. After trying to take my own life, I was diagnosed with depression. My dad and I swore we'd never give up for the reason we had each other. No matter how bad life may be we have our bond to hold us together. Yes my father remains my hero. However, most importantly, my dad taught me how strong love stands and to cherish life. I now hope to tell my story to people who are or have gone through similar problems as us.
Deployment is a word that all military spouses and military families dread to hear. When my husband came home to our barely moved in house with news of his deployment to Afghanistan, I was devastated. Though we received terrible news, we also felt incredible joy that same week. I was pregnant with our first child. We were overjoyed by this news but it also meant that my husband would be away the first eight months of our son’s life.
Since time began there has always been conflict. Whether it be religious, race oriented, or conflict over land. Conflicts have lead countries and nations to amass armies. While some armies are small, others may be vast in size. No matter the size of the Army they all have one thing in common… their Soldiers. As Non-Commissioned Officers we would be without a profession if we did not take care of, and retain our Soldiers. Through their mishaps and mistakes it is our job to lead them as they will, hopefully, be taking over our position as they climb the ladder to becoming the next great leader we aspire them to become. However, as in life, there are always trials and tribulations that come with life in the Military. We have all had Soldiers with
My little sister and I were taught to stand up for what’s right and to respect ourselves. We were taught to respect our parents and to never let the good ol’ American flag touch the ground. I’m blessed to have been raised in a military home. It has made me into the person I am today. Military brats, that’s what many call us, the children who are raised in military families. My father, Jason Swartout, entered the United States Air Force when he was 18 and my mother was 16. He and my mother were just kids. They suffered through the hard times and the distance between the three of them. My mother was living with her parents in North Carolina, with my oldest brother Andrew, he was then just a baby, while my dad was stationed at the Delaware Air Force base. Later, my second brother Austin was born, then I came into the picture on January 22, 1999. I was born on Fort Bragg Army Base, in North Carolina. My dad and I were and still are two peas in a pod. Both very stubborn, yet gracious and caring. We are both emotional when it comes to family and our amazing country. I always knew I wanted to follow in his footsteps in some way. I hope to make him
When I was four years old my father left home. Not only he changed neighborhood or town but he left the country. It may seem that I was too young to notice his absence, but the truth is that this changed my life completely. I was quite close to my father and even today I can remember the emptiness that I felt in my chest. At four years of age I did not realize that behind the story of his departure was one of the greatest life lessons that he taught me.
Today when I woke, I was expecting my son to be asleep. That wasn't the case. Today was his first race. Now here we were, at the track, race about to start, everyone was lined up ready to run. *bang* The starting gun went off. Like a bolt of lightning, everything came flashing back to me.
Friends that I knew their parents and I knew how hard it would be for them to know about the lost of their son. Other part of my colleagues (friends) lost body parts as well. The thing that was harder more that the training, was to go to visit those who stayed alive in the hospital. Some of them were in a vegetative state; others got treatment for their wounded parts. Impossible to explain the feeling or the look of those parents standing next to their child’s bad not knowing if they should be happy or sad. With all the pain and the suffer, I have learned to appreciate life, I learned that nothing is taken for granted and every day I wake up it is a day that I received as a gift, if I could be among those wounded or dead soldiers but I did not, instead, I was from those who visit wounded soldiers and not visited by others. It is a sign, this is my destiny, and I must fulfill it in the best way possible.
He decided to become a civilian and worked with two automotive suppliers. In 2003, my dad decided to join the military as an officer. Our first cycle of moving occurred in 2006. We were sent to San Jose, California. When I first arrived it was a culture shock. Coming from a population of majority white people into a multicultural area ruffled my feathers. Not only was the cultural environment different the people were different. I grew up with my classmates at Cedarville Elementary and in San Jose I was forced to make new friends. As a second grader, the challenge is a easier. In June 2008, my family packed up and moved four hours away. Stationed in the "beautiful" San Diego. As a fourth grader, I made friends instantly, but the friends in San Diego were unfamiliar. The kids were harsh and rude. They would call me names and I grew up to resent San Diego. The beaches
I didn’t take high school as serious as I should have. I didn’t take an SAT or anything in Germany because either there wasn’t a way or I didn’t want to. I wanted to be a police officer but unfortunately most departments at the time wanted you to have a two year degree. Since I did not have a degree I ended up come up with something else I wanted to do. After a little thought I decided I would join the military and become part of the United States Army. I started my Army career at Fort Benning, Georgia. Being in the Army was definitely a huge change for me. It was my first time out in life on my own. I had no idea what I had got myself into. It was different from my time at the ranch. This was structured, organized, and discipline.
The “fortress” is a life that may be hard for others to understand. Military communities do not live the life that most do. They have 5am wakeup calls, most instillations come to a halt at 5pm to honor the flag being lowered, and they enjoy the somber sounds of Taps being played at 9pm. That is what I miss most about living near an instillation. I loved taking that dogs out at 9pm and listening to the coyotes howl while Taps was being played. Life on an instillation is structured, but it’s not necessarily a bad thing. Structure is something that helps hold things together.
I have been blessed to have led a highly fulfilling career over the past 22 years. The Air Force’s standards of conduct and performance have helped me mature into an adult while creating lasting memories along the way. I have had the opportunity to make significant contributions to my country that offer a sense of pride and personal achievement. My current duties allow me to directly contribute to the Air Force and Joint arena on an almost daily basis. Joining the Air Force helped me to realize I had undertaken a task bigger than myself.
Growing up I wasn't a nice person I went to F.E.S kindergarten through 2nd grade and I would fight anyone just with them looking at me a way and didn't like I would beat them up. In 1st grade I was a permanent in the office at lunch kid because I couldn't get along with anyone. I remember my last day I was able to go out side to play on the playground there was this kid that was on the spider monkey with me and my friend hope and stabbed my best friend with a pocket knife and I blacked out and ripped him off of the spider monkey and I don't remember nothing but coming out of compleat black and sitting in the office in handcuffs.
Thesis: The war overseas, but there are millions of veterans still fighting the war at home.
I was enlisted in the army on 23 June 1999 as an Infantry rifleman in 4th Battalion Singapore Infantry Regiment. Initially I hated the army and signing on in the army never cross my mind. I hated the army for many reasons. The regimentation, waking up very early in the morning everyday, no freedom and sometimes even been punished by the Sergeant for no apparent reason. I only decided to take up Army as a career after I ORD in 2001 when I actually miss being a soldier. The army life is so full of adventure, toughness and camaraderie.
My father passed away in 1991, two weeks before Christmas. I was 25 at the time but until then I had not grown up. I was still an ignorant youth that only cared about finding the next party. My role model was now gone, forcing me to reevaluate the direction my life was heading. I needed to reexamine some of the lessons he taught me through the years.
My first experience in the service world was in eighth grade when I was a counselor at a camp for children who had cystic fibrosis. This was probably my first experience with the real world. For the first time, and to my amazement, I saw that people-even kids-were sick and dying. I realize I was extremely naive, but for some reason I thought only people outside of America were sick and dying. My life up to that point had been sheltered and dreamlike to me. I saw kids who were only a few years younger than I and who were probably living their last year. I remember when I went back the next year to see the kids off on their bus to camp not seeing some girls who were in my cabin the year before. I was horrified to find out that some of my campers had not made it through the year. Thank goodness I was able to be opened up to the suffering that was taking place so close to me. And my mother is the one I have to thank for this. Thank you for taking me to CF camp. She planted a seed which still desires to grow to this day...